Addiction
by Miss Pedigree
Summary: We all know he's a nasty bastard! The Game/OC. Might contain swearing,  BD SM & violence sometime later, but I'll try to keep this somewhat clean and stick to the rules. Yeehaa!
1. Chapter 1

_Smack!_

The sound made him lift his head and try to make out the direction it was coming from.

_Smack smack!_

Unable to see something in the darkness he closed his eyes again and listened.

Nothing.

The only sound he could hear was his own breathing and his increasing heartbeat.

_Klick klick!_

There she was. The sound of her heel boots on the parquet as she came closer made him lightly sigh. There she was, a few steps behind him, to his left.

His breathing became harder, he knew what was coming.

_Klick klick klick!_

She was coming closer..

_Smack smack!_

The sound of the whip smacking against her palm made him shiver with anticipation. He wanted to wipe away the sweatdrops from his forehead…and winced.

The ropes that tied his hands behind his back exerted a nasty pressure on his wrists. Not really painful but very uncomfortable.

"Awww… is it too tight for you?", came her mocking voice from behind.

He sighed. "No…"

_SMACK!_

He flinched and yelped as the leather whip hit the exposed flesh of his back hard, but only seconds later the pain turned into burning pleasure.

"No…WHAT ?" she said harshly and dug her nails into his shoulder.

" No, Mistress." He answered humbly and gritted his teeth.

"Well…" , she said sweetly, let go off his shoulder and whispered " then, tell me, what can I do for you tonight? "

He could feel her lips on his ear and her hot breath on his neck when she talked, causing a hot wave of lust to wash over his body.

" I…I…" he closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.

'What am I doing here – again?' he thought. He could be in a nice hotel room, spending the night with a beautiful lovely woman…one? No, two, three, hell – as many as he wanted. Women that would do anything he wanted, pleasing him as often as he wanted, in any way he wanted…

Instead of doing what the other guys on the road were doing he was here, again, dozens of miles away from the hotel they were spending the night at, with his hands tied, he couldn't see a damn thing, and that hellcat behind him…

She placed her hand on the back of his neck and started to massage the muscles with her thumb. He leaned into the gentle touch and moaned. That woman…

Never in his life had a woman had that effect on him. Every time he was in this city or near this city he felt like drawn to this house, and that exceptional woman.

He had – unsuccessfully - tried everything to stay away from her over the last months, but she was like a drug he couldn't resist.

Couldn't he just go and do what the normal guys did…

Thinking about it for the billionth time he came to the conclusion that he wasn't normal, and had officially lost his mind. Instead of finding himself a beautiful woman, finally settling down, raising a family and building a 'normal' life like his colleagues did, he wasted his time, his energy and his money on a woman he had never even seen and who caused him nothing but pain and confusion…and pain..and pleasure..and lust…

He knew what is was that made him come back to her every time.

One, she had never cared. About anything that concerned him, his job, his life. She didn't care who he was, about his status or his reputation. Maybe she didn't even knew _who_ he was – and if she did she never showed it. To her he was just like everybody else, he never received a special treatment

And two, she could make him feel like nobody else could, like nobody else _dared_ to.

Nobody would ever talk to him like she did, or treat him the way she did.

There weren't many guys left that were in the business as long as he was. Marc, yes. And Shawn was still around sometimes, and occasionally Dwayne and Steve.

The rest of the locker room had way too much respect, maybe they were even a little scared.

She wasn't.

He knew he wasn't an easy person to deal with, he was a troublemaker and had slight anger management problems – that being the reason why those guys stayed out his way most of the time. Nobody would put him in his place, except for her.

In her presence he felt like a worthless piece of rotten shit – as he demanded. He wanted it that way, he _needed_ it that way, since nobody else would do it…

"Hey" she whispered and pulled him out of his thoughts.

He tilted his head in the direction he assumed her face until he felt the tip of her nose brush over his cheek. "Hm?"

"Where are you?"

The symathy in her voice made him sigh. Somehow she always seemed to know _what_ he needed _when_ he needed it. He shrugged.

"Okay…". She removed her hand from his neck, then he heard the klicking of her heels on the floor as she backed away from him.

"Whatever your problem is, get over it, and do it fast, you shitty pussy, I have other things to do!"

The harsh tone and the insult made him grin, he knew she wasn't serious, she was provocating him.

"Do you really?"

_Klick klick klick._

_Smack!_

He laughed when she slapped him right across the face.

"Are you talking to me, you nasty fucker?" He moaned when she pinched the exposed skin of his hip hard and pressed her thigh against the growing buldge in his pants.

"Well, " she sneered, " let's get started, shall we."


	2. Chapter 2

_This is Zoe Craven, please leave a message after..._

With a frustrated sigh Rochelle hung up and threw her cell phone on the couch. She hadn't been able to reach her friend for days and now started to worry.

_It's probably nothing, as always_, she thought and stared out of her living room window.

It wasn't the first time Zoe disappeared for a couple of days, or even weeks. During this time she wasn't available for nobody, she never called or wrote an email.

Rochelle assumed it was her friends job. She didn't know much about Zoes work, all she knew was that Zoe worked in a hotel where she answered 'special' customer requests and that she worked a lot of overtime and on weekends if her boss requested it, which he did. Period.

But Zoe never complained. Rochelle snorted. If Zoes boss was her boss, she'd show him…

The young black haired woman yawned and checked her watch. 7pm. Groaning she scuffed to the bathroom to attach her make up and get dressed. Working time.

She could still hear the sound of her whip smacking across his back, leaving thin red marks, and his moans when she dug her nails into his shoulders, bit down hard on his nipples and pressed her butt against his crotch…

Zoe stretched when she got up from the rocking chair on the front porch and slowly walked down towards the lake.

She liked coming here from time to time to relax and leave all the stress behind. Her parents had bought the small chalet by the lake a couple of years ago, and she had spent numerous holidays here. It was quiet, the next town was 20 miles away, the lake was surrounded by woods and the only creatures that Zoe ever saw around here were foxes and deers.

Zoe sat by the lake and let her feet dangle in the cool water.

Until I can pay the college fee…

She sighed. With the money she earned and the money she received for support from her parents she could probably pay her **and** Rochelles college fees.

_I should stop this_, Zoe thought. _If Dad ever found out that…_

Her parents would probably disown her and never talk to her again if they knew what their precious baby girl did to earn money.

Zoe shook her head, pulled her feet out of the water, got up and walked back to the house. No, she wasn't a bad person, and neither was Rochelle. She was sure a lot of people would be offended by her job, but there weren't many ways for a girl to make much money fast.

Besides, there was only a hand full of people who knew about her job, and Zoe intended to keep it that way. People wouldn't think of her like that anyway. In reality Zoe was anything else but dominant and loud and rude or an expert in sex. She was more of a quiet, reserved person. Not even her flatmate and friend Rochelle really knew what she was doing.

Entering the house Zoe heard the ringing of her cell phone on the kitchen table, then it stopped. One missed call, Rochelle.

Zoe thought about calling back but dismissed the idea. Rochelle would be asking too many questions and talking way too much, as always. Sometimes she could be really annoying.

Shortly after Zoe had started her new job a common friend had introduced them at his birthday party, and they had liked each other right away.

Four weeks later they had moved in together in a small two-room apartment near the city. It wasn't big, but it was all two college students could afford, and it had everything they needed. A separate room for both of them, a bathroom and even a small kitchenette.

With the financial support they received from their parents both girls paid their part of the rent and electricity, and the money that had been saved over years wasn't enough to pay their college education at once, the fridge needed to be filled..

Zoe thought about how she slipped into the whole thing. No job, no money – then she had talked to a girl from one of her courses during lunch break who revealed she worked in a strip club on weekends to finance her education. Zoe would have never thought somebody could make that much money with a 10-minute-appearance. Then the girl had offered Zoe if she was interested she should drop by, maybe they could use a waitress or something.

Stupid as Zoe had been, she had indeed dropped by, and received a job as a waitress on Friday and Saturday nights. The payment was fairly good, her colleagues were nice and she still had enough time for her studies.

It started with serving drinks and flirting to raise the tip and now… she did _that_.

It was better than Rochelles job, though. Sex for money had never been an option for Zoe.

People didn't understand the difference between a prostitute and a mistress. Zoe didn't sell her body. She didn't sleep with those men. She didn't satisfy them the way Rochelle did, but in the eyes of the society she was a whore anyway.

Zoe snorted. If the society only knew who had already paid her a little visit. Teachers, attorneys, cops, judges – just to name a few. Unlike her clients _she_ could see them before she entered the dark room through an observation mirror. One time she had almost had a run in with one of her college teachers… the next day she had cancelled his class.

Another time she had seen one of her regular customers at the grocery store – with his wife and three little children. _Son of a bitch_.

Besides numerous first-timers and men that were just curious, Zoe knew about five customers that visited the establishment she worked at regularly. That family man, a deputy, a primary school teacher, a drug addicted state attorney – and that one guy.

Zoe didn't know where he came from or what he did, but ever since their first encounter she had asked herself why somebody like him would come to see her – and only her.

Zoe knew it wasn't good to think about her customers after work, she shouldn't care why anyone of them came to her. One of the first things she had been told – don't care, don't judge, don't get too close. But she already _had_ crossed the line. She knew it. If Zoe was honest to herself, she had to admit that she was almost looking forward to their next meeting. And that wasn't only crazy, but dangerous. _Don't get too close_…

During their third meeting she had gone pretty rough on him and had bruised him bad. He had sounded like he was about to cry and Zoe had felt horrible. She had even apologized and started to rub his left thigh where her whip had hit him moments before.

She could feel his muscles tighten, her touch was almost tender, and it was that moment she realized she _had_ gone too far. _Don't get too close_…Maybe that was the reason he always demanded her, maybe he felt save with her. Maybe it was because they had built some kind of sick but personal relationship…

_Enough,_ she thought and let herself fall on the couch. She'd have to return tomorrow, she couldn't miss another course. Plus, she'd have to think of an excuse why she had missed her date with Ryan. Ryan was in her homeroom, they often met to study together and had become very close friends. He was like the big brother Zoe had never had. Exhausted she eventually fell asleep.

Black hair. Black hair and blue eyes. And a doll face…maybe.

Maybe that was what she looked like, Hunter thought. In his head she did. He couldn't help it, he needed a face he could imagine when he pleased himself.

Looking at his reflection in the mirror he noticed the tiny red marks on his shoulder her nails had left almost a week ago. Hunter closed his eyes and tried to recall last Monday night.

Raw, the show, Kevin bugging him to go with them to a certain club.

"I know the perfect chic for you man. She can do things…"

'Ah what the hell', he had thought and gone with them.

Well, she had been hot, and she had put a lot of effort into it, no doubt about that, she was good at what she was doing.

But that was it – good. And _good_ wasn't good enough for him. Not anymore.

A couple of months ago it was all he needed, but now it wasn't enough to satisfy him. Hunter thought he knew everything about sexual pleasure, but he had been wrong. He didn't know the meaning of the word 'orgasm' until he met _her_.

What he experienced with her was no orgasm – it was an eruption, a hurricane.

She was the only woman that ever made him scream, that made him beg.

When she put him down, whispered dirty insults in his ear and slapped him around the head he could barely control himself. When she closed her small hand around his erection, squeezed and scratched her nails over the sensitive skin he was about to explode.

And she never touched him when he did. She pulled her hand away shortly before his orgasm and bit his neck, pulled his hair or pinched his hip hard to push him over the edge.

He didn't know why she did that.

Maybe it disgusted her, maybe she found it unpleasent, or maybe it was too much for her. Hunter had seen documentations and read articles about those women in the past. Most of them had been presented as real bitches with a huge ego. _She_ was different. She wasn't as cruel or sadistic as you would describe a typical mistress, dominant and determining, yes, and sometimes she was very sensitive and caring. Like a kitten… he felt himself harden.

'Bullshit', Hunter thought angrily and threw his tooth brush against the mirror. 'Like I care!'

Groaning he undressed, stepped into the shower and let the cool water run over his body.

He stared at the tiles on the wall until he saw small black stars dance in front of his eyes. Hunter blinked, but the stars were still there and started to form a picture. A faceless woman dressed in black leather…

"What the…!" he yelled and jumped out of the shower. ' You're going crazy. Too many chair shots..' he thought, turned off the water and closed the bathroom door behind him.

Hunter crawled under the sheets. 'I just need sleep'. He tossed and turned for hours before he got up again. 'It's been a week… one goddamn week… I'm sick, and abnormal, and disgusting'

He packed, checked out and drove away. 'Just as far away as possible from this place!'

After 20 minutes he pulled into a parking lot, turned off the engine and rested his head on the steering wheel. He didn't know how long he sat there before he lifted his head, noticed the neon sign – and realized where he was. He knew that place very well. How the hell did he end up _here_? Hunter remembered an article about subconcious behavior in stress situations.

'No. I'm a rational, clear thinking human being and…awww fuck it!' he thought, exited the car and slammed the door, the sound catching the attention of the doorman.

Meanwhile he knew Tony pretty well. The Afro American with the bald head waved and disappeared through the front door.

Hunter rounded the building and was greeted by Tony at the back entrance.

"Hey man. Having longings?"

Hunter chuckeled. "Kinda. Uhm… is she…"

" Not yet. She should've been here 30 minutes ago. Come in."

Tony lead Hunter through the corridor to a small room. "Drink?"

"As always."

Handing Hunter the scotch Tony said " Are you sure you wanna wait for her? I mean, we have a nice selection here and…"

" No. I'll wait."

"Okay. Well. Somebody's gonna pick you up. I gotta go." And with that said Tony left.

Hunter took the time to look around. He had never been here before. The walls were painted burgundy red, the carpet was the same colour, the black leather couch fitted perfectly in here.

Hunter turned his cell phone off and wanted to sit down when he heard Tony's voice on the other side of the door.

" Where the hell have you been? Cesar is so pissed…"

" Cesar is ALWAYS pissed at something."

The sound of _her_ voice made him shiver. She was there, in the hallway, only a few feet away from him.

" Besides, it's not my fault if some people are too stupid to drive. There was an accident and they closed the street, so I had to turn around and take the other way…"

That voice. It was calm and clear and friendly. Hunter got goosebumps when a certain bodypart stated its impatience.

He started pacing – and noticed the door was cracked open. He began to sweat. _Should I?Do I really want to know?What if… _But his feet were already moving, and he slowly sneaked towards the door. Hunter took a deep breath and peaked through the small gap.


End file.
